#they were rooommates | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bi-writes · 3 months

Text

bestfriend!rooommate!simon finds out you've been lying.

more bff!roommate!simon (part 8/?)

cw: mature language and content, suggestive language and content, mean!simon (verbally), size kink (simon can move the reader easily, described as much bigger), praise kink, the mask doesn't come off, oral (m!receiving), fem!receiving touching, cumplay, soft!dom!simon, reader uses simon to get herself off (because there is no universe in which simon doesn't return his girl's favor), pet names (including pet and kitty)

you lied.

if simon had his gloves off, his knuckles would be stark white from how hard he was gripping the mail in his hands.

neither of you had checked your mailbox in a while--simon had only returned a few days ago from the harsh winter of northern russia after weeks away, and you seemingly had been busy with work. so busy, simon noticed very quickly, that you spent morning to late at night in your red and white uniform, coming home in the dead of night just to crash and do it all again the next morning.

now he held all the letters in his hand. stacks of them, with angry red stamps bleeding into the white of the envelopes.

NOTICE

WARNING

PAST DUE

LAST NOTICE

he stopped breathing for a moment. he spread the letters out on the table, flipping through each of them. he didn't open them, of course but these were all your bills. cell phone, last month's half of the rent, credit cards, your name written on the back and ugly red warnings pasted over it.

simon had spoken to you while he was gone. he had called you once, twice at least, and all he remembered was your soft voice telling him you missed him, to be careful, that you screwed up a new cookie recipe that you promised you would perfect before he got home.

you hadn't said a thing. your voice had been even and gentle as always. your voice had been comforting, saying only encouraging words. if simon was honest, your voice put him at ease; you always told him something to calm him, something to uplift him.

"i'm so proud of you, simon."

"i hate that you're gone, but there's no one else that could do what you do."

"um...hah...love you. be careful."

you hadn't said a word. your voice didn't reveal an ounce of the stress and the weight that must've been hanging over your head. there was no falter in your words, no strain as you spoke. just pretty, perfect, beautiful you, easing simon's demons while you battled some of your own.

simon crumpled one of the envelopes in his hands. it was thick with papers, but he still forced it into a ball, tossing it back onto the table angrily. he gripped the edge of the table, white knuckling it until he heard the key in the lock.

it was quiet as you came inside. you shut the door and locked it behind you, setting down your bag and taking off your jacket. it was morning; you had worked the night shift. your eyes were drawn low, tired and a dull. you said nothing as you toed off your shoes, letting your sneakers settle under the table. it was then that you noticed simon just sitting there, still, with his hands folded in front of him.

and all of your bills scattered around him.

you sucked in a shaky breath, looking up into his eyes. they were trained low, on the letters surrounding him, but he glared, boring a whole through them. he didn't know where to focus his anger; you were precious, you could do no wrong, you were soft and warm and his, and it wasn't your fault that everything was so expensive, that you were struggling.

but it was your fault that you hadn't said a thing--that you hadn't asked for help.

"simon, i...i-i can explain."

"no. y'r not gonna talk, luv." you had never heard his voice this way. so low and gravelly, an eerie lilt to it that reeked of disappointment and somehow betrayal. "y'r gonna sit down. now."

simon roughly pulled the chair from beside him out, an unspoken command for you to take a seat. your bottom lip trembled as you slumped into the chair, watery eyes avoiding his.

"how long?"

"simon--"

you jumped as he slammed a hand down on the table. the entirety of it shook, the papers ruffling and the dishes clattering loudly.

"a few months! a-a few months, just--"

"no!" simon snapped. "y'lied to me. y'lied to me! i asked! how many times have i asked?! how many times have i looked you in the fuckin' eye and asked you if everythin' was in order, how many fuckin' times?!"

you couldn't keep it in. the tears were hot, running down your cheeks and putting salt on your lips and a dryness in your throat. you were embarrassed. embarrassed that you needed help, ashamed that you were being scolded like a child, afraid of his loud voice and his terrible anger and the way he looked at you. when you decided to live together, you weren't meant to be his burden. you didn't intend to be his problem.

"i-i'm sorry, simon--i'm sorry..." you met his eyes. "i'm taking extra shifts. i-i'm gonna pay the bills, i-i'm gonna make it right, i-i swear--"

"is that what you think this is?"

he narrowed his eyes at you, two dark slits, and then as if a switch flipped, it was gone. his face softened, his eyes widening, and the tension seemed to dissipate just enough to let you breathe a little easier. you couldn't decipher this change, and you couldn't read what was in his eyes, not this time. all you could was sit there and try not to let your cries make any sound.

"do y'think i'm angry because y'didn't pay? is that what y'think?"

you shook your head, shrugging, not understanding his question.

"what...what other reason is there, s-simon?" you hiccuped. "i screwed..." more tears, they wouldn't stop falling, "i-i screwed up, simon, i-i'm so sorry, i-i--"

you jumped when his chair screeched against the floor. he stood up fast, taking a step to round the table to crouch beside your chair. he looked up at you, making himself smaller, and you looked down.

"simon, i'm sorry--"

"stop! stop fuckin' apologizing, fuck," simon interrupted you. his voice was gentle, trying not to scare you, and you closed your mouth, taking in deep, shaking breaths to try and center yourself. "'m angry because you didn't talk to me, luv--" your face fell when he reached up, two gloved hands cupping your puffy cheeks, "--why didn't you say anything? why didn't you tell me? why didn't you ask me for help?"

you sniffled, reaching up and caressing his wrists gently. you played with the edges of his gloves, your fingers skimming the hem of his sleeves and just barely teasing the bare skin under it.

"simon...how could i?" you asked, as if it was obvious. "after everything that's happened...after everything we've been through...h-how could i ask that of you?" "how could you not?" simon spit back, and when you tried to pull away, he tightened his grip on your cheeks. "no, no--look at me--" he rose up on his knees, pressing your forehead to his, "look at me."

your expression was pained, struggling to do as he asked, but eventually your eyes fluttered, meeting his own, and he grunted as he gripped the back of your neck and held you there.

nowhere to go. nowhere to run. no one else.

"y'r not my problem. not my burden," he muttered. "y'r m'responsibility. mine to take care of."

"i-i don't want you to have to do that--"

"what the fuck do y'think this is?" he breathed. "what we have, what this is, this is forever, has that not gotten through y'r bloody head?" you whimpered when he shook you a little, his hand in your hair as he pulled it tight. "y'r as good as mine. not up for discussion."

you swallowed hard as his hands came down, wiping the tears off your face. he brushed your hair back and away, so he could see you, and you smiled at him sadly, eyes glossy and bright.

"'m gonna take care of the flat from now on, yeah?" simon murmured. "'m gonna take care of everything."

your body visibly relaxed. your shoulders fell, your body sinking a little more into the chair, and there was something sweet in your eyes--something hopeful. simon's tone was definite, and there was no room for arguing. you nodded finally, leaning in slowly, pressing a delicate kiss to where his lips would be under the mask. his thumb swiped over your cheek, falling to trace the line of your jaw, and then you both closed your eyes at the same time.

there was an understanding here. it was as if simon was washing you clean--something refreshing and warm and gentle running down the length of you, rinsing whatever was hurting you right down some sort of sickening void that had gripped you so tightly. and he did it so easily--he did it without even blinking.

and it was easy. simon never hesitated with you. his money rotted in an account anyways--it sat and stared at him, reminding him of the kind of hell he had gone through just to get it. it reminded him of the half of him that was someone, the half of him that he hated, the half of his being that came from a wretched, horrid, terrifying thing that manifested itself somewhere in his blood.

simon was half of something foul, and maybe he couldn't make up for the part of him that he didn't think was human, but he could make up for this, make up for you, make up for whatever half of you had left you here. because that was what you deserved--you deserved to be taken care of, you deserved not to worry, you deserved to sleep in soft sheets and eat until your belly was full and smile so much that your cheeks ached, and if simon had to become someone else just to give it to you, if simon had to die and come back again, then that was exactly what he would do.

simon had died once already. simon had seen it--seen how empty and unfulfilling and quiet it had been. simon had seen another side, and you didn't belong there. you belonged somewhere warm. somewhere a little noisy, a little bright, familiar.

it hadn't always been this way. when simon first met you, it hadn't been a good day--simon wore bruises, and you wore blood, and it was in that instant moment of understanding that made it clear you would be bound forever.

something invisible threaded you together. and simon had pulled himself out of his early grave, and after he had done it, you were the only thing that remained. and he hated himself--he hated himself for thanking some unspoken thing, because his entire family was gone, but you weren't gone, you were still here, there was still sunlight in your eyes and laughter in your voice and you were still warm.

it should've tasted sour to be grateful for it. he wanted to hate himself for this feeling. he deserved to die again and not return, but then he wouldn't get to see you anymore, and the selfish part of him, the other half of him, would never give you up willingly.

this love was visceral. this love was going to kill him. he was going to die with you on his mind, but maybe that would be the only thing worth really dying for.

because there you are. big, pretty eyes gazing up at him--fuck, why does she look at me like that?

why does she look at me like i mean something?

why isn't she afraid?

why can't i push her away?

what the fuck is wrong with me?

his beautiful girl. his pretty little roommate. the woman with flowers for eyes and silk as skin and a mind filled with starlight. the sweetheart pushing him to sit, forcing him backwards, getting on her knees in between his legs. and then her hands were on his thighs, sliding up against the rough denim as she laid one side of her face against it, those petals in her eyes trained on the way that his pants seemed to get tighter with every drag of her delicate fingers up his thighs.

and then she was pushing up his hoodie, exposing the relaxed muscle of his stomach, and then she was kissing it. soft lips warming the solid middle of him, a knowing smile growing on her face as she felt him twitch and jump and grunt. and then those beautiful eyes were looking back up at him, her neck tilted back as she undid his jeans and nestled the hem of them just low enough for her to reach in and fuck--

you knew simon was beautiful everywhere. you knew that there was no part of him that wasn't perfect. you couldn't remember being particularly religious, but kneeling in front of him felt like devotion--and you had much to confess.

he was thick, heavy, a weight in your hand that had you drooling without so much as seeing him. you were looking at the red tip of him with eyes half-lidded, and it took everything in you not to take him all at once. but this was simon, this was your version of perfect, and you needed to show simon how much you felt because words were not enough.

words would never be enough.

you started slow. you dipped your head, your eyes flicking up to watch him as you caressed the base of him with a wet kiss. you squeezed your legs together when you noticed his dark eyes roll back into his head for a second, a pained, pleasured reaction, and then you did it again.

a soft lick, the edge of your tongue sliding over a protruding vein on the underside of his length, and you closed your own eyes for a moment to revel in the deep groan that simon uttered. you sighed deeply, keeping your thighs squeezed together to relieve the sudden ache between them, before flattening your tongue and guiding it up his length. simon cursed under his breath, his hands gripping his thighs tight--but one of his hands flew to the back of your head when your greedy little mouth sucked the tip of him into your mouth.

you moaned softly, tasting the edge of him, something so simon and pleasant. a little precum, warm, flowing onto your tongue. you whimpered when you felt his fingers tangle into your hair, gripping you for stability as you sucked him in.

"christ, luv--" just the sound of him so pleased was enough to have you dripping, "fuck--'s so good, 's perfect--"

she was so beautiful. she was perfect. of course she would be good at sucking him off, of course she would have the prettiest tongue and the warmest mouth, and of course she would have one hand wrapping around the base of him as the other slipped between her legs--

"fuck--y'r gettin' off on this, yeah?" he grunted, his eyes flashing with something dark. "'f course you are, such a good girl--"

good girl, good girl, i'm a good girl--

just as slow as it began, as quick as you became. one moment you were cool, composed, watching simon's eyes and listening to his voice as you tried to memorize what pleasure sounded like when it came from him, and the next moment you were sliding him further into your mouth, drool dripping down your jaw as precum spread across your teeth. he was so big--so much to take, but the strain in your jaw tomorrow would have to be a welcome side effect to making lieutenant simon riley cum down your throat.

so sloppy, what a mess you were making. simon's hand now cupped the side of your head, your hair in some makeshift updo as he guided you along his length. the sounds were filthy--soft, slobbering noises as you took simon just a little further down your throat, your tongue being careful to tease the slit of him, slipping between the fold of it to illicit the most gorgeous of moans out of him.

"fuckin' hell--the mouth of a fuckin' angel--"

"such a pretty girl...such a pretty sight...makin' such a mess, sweetheart..."

"y'like it, yeah? y'like it...y'r so pretty...s'pretty, luv, nnngh--th's it, just like that--"

and now you were bouncing pathetically onto your hand. you pressed your hand into the floor, trapping your thighs over it as you tried desperately to grind down on something as you sucked warmly on simon's length. just as you let out a frustrated whine, simon's boot knocked your hand out of the way, slipping the steel toe of it right there, right--oh!

you cried out as the tip of his boot pushed right up against your cunt. the perfect spot, right against your aching clit, because simon never missed--simon always hit his target, whether it was between the eyes of some muppet who had his gun aimed at johnny or exactly where to touch his girl to make her drool. and drool she did--with her mouth stuffed full of him, with her slick wetting her thighs, with that look in her eyes that could make any man lose his fucking mind.

and simon was losing it, he was crazy. he soothed the back of your neck, grunting and hissing and wetting the fabric of his mask with the way he spat and cursed for you. but how could he help himself? the most beautiful girl in the world was on her knees, looking at him like she was at the alter. confessing her sins, receiving her absolution, taking every bit of it like the good girl she was, is.

he was so pretty. he tasted so good. you could only see his eyes, but it was more than enough, you didn't need anything more. the way he scrunched them open and shut, the low drawl of his voice as he said your name--he was perfect. his cock filled your mouth so nicely; he was using you, but you didn't feel used.

you wanted this. you wanted him. you wanted him to put you between his legs, wanted him to finally feel something other than that sick, twisted ache in his bones.

you lifted your hand, the one that had been buried between your thighs, and you cupped the underside of him with them. the wet, sticky warmth of your fingers had simon choking on a breath, hissing when you began to work the length of him that you couldn't fit in your mouth.

"jesus fuckin' christ--!"

his chest was heaving, rising up and down as he scratched at your scalp and cupped the underside of your jaw. then he bent low, smoothing a gloved hand down your throat, needing to feel the way it constricted, the way you swallowed, the feel of your skin and the vibrations as you whimpered and moaned around the thick of him.

you were suckling so sweetly, letting pools of drool and precum slip past your lips and drip along your chin, your hands, against his boot. simon was getting close--you could tell by the way he tugged on your hair and the faltering of his breaths. and he was talking--talking so much, blubbering.

"aye, sweetheart--th's it..."

"fuckin' hell...nnnghh...feel like bloody heaven..."

"...see you in m'dreams, luv...aghh! fuck--fuck, fuck, fuck--"

you didn't think there was anything more attractive than watching simon lose control. but you weren't doing much better. as you sucked the salt from his cock, you slid your hips over his boot to relieve the ache between your thighs even just a little. you thought maybe it was a pathetic sight, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. you fit your cunt right up against him, nestling the tip of his toes against your clit so you could rock back and forth, soaking the leather with you.

simon grunted, chuckling a bit to himself as you watched you suck a little harder, a little sloppier, move your hips a little messier. you were like a sweet, doe-eyed puppy--all big eyes and soft mewls and nothing inside your head except suck, suck, suck--

you whined when he came into your mouth. you held out your tongue, massaging the middle of his cock as he dripped along your mouth, your lips, under your tongue, against your chin. and like the messy little girl you were, you kept suckling on the tip until simon gripped you by the back of the head and lifted you up off the ground, grunting as he roughly manhandled you into his lap.

"little kitty can't help herself...what a fuckin' mouth on ya..."

and then his fingers were gathering the cum on your face and slipping it back into your mouth--just as the fingers on his other hand plunged inside of you.

he was deep, thick gloved fingers taking up even more space, stretching your pulsing, gummy cunt as you gripped his shoulders and cried. little tears coming down your face as you chased that blissful high, begging simon to give it, give it, you need it.

it didn't take much. just a few rough touches of your puffy clit, and you were soaking his gloves, whining as you pressed your cheek to his and mumbled how good he felt, how everything hurt so nice.

a pounding, aching thing that was gone in a matter of seconds, throwing you in a pleasure-drunk mood, with your head rest against his shoulder and your breaths coming out heavy and languid.

your eyes fluttered, but your vision was just clear enough that you could see simon lift the front of his mask. you caught the line of deep scar, something a healed and vicious against his pretty face. then it was gone, replaced by the sight of him slipping his gloved fingers into his mouth and sucking on them, pink tongue coming out to taste them as he slurped at the gooey mess you made on them.

you saw the slightest hint of a smirk before the fabric came back down again.

"'s alright, pet--" simon's voice was low, a drawl to it that made his accent a bit more pronounced. and just as your eyes fluttered shut completely--

"'m right here, kitty."

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

1K notes · View notes

thejilyship · 4 years

Text

12. Roommate AU

I love jilytober prompts because I don’t need to come up with titles for things. Also, if anyone is looking for a job in which they don’t get paid, I will hire you to name things for me.

WC- 1.8K

“Listen Red-”

“My name is Lily.”

“Yes, Red, listen. I know that we put an ad in the paper, but that was to upset the roommate that we had to kick out.”

“Yeah, it’s still a sore subject, but we hate him now.”

Lily looked back and forth between the three boys before her and frowned. “Okay, but you put out the ad. And the price for the room is like, the best in the city, and I really need a place to live. Like, yesterday.”

One of the three had been quiet since she’d walked through the front door and so she looked at him now, wanting to see if she could make headway with him, since the one that kept calling her ‘Red,’ didn’t seem as sympathetic.

“I mean, it’s not very fair to put an ad out, if you had no intention of even-”

“We can interview you.” The quiet one said, pushing his glasses up his nose. “I mean, we do have an empty room after all. Just because we don’t need a roommate-”

“James.”

“Prongs.”

“Let’s just think about it.” James said. “We did put the ad out. And she said that she needs a place-”

“James,” The one with sandy hair sighed and shook his head. “It’s always the redheads with you.” He muttered quietly, and so Lily assumed that she wasn’t supposed to have heard that.

“Please. I have a sob story if you need to hear it.”

“We’ve all got a sob story, Red.”

“Yes, but my sob story is currently happening. My mum died a few months ago, and my sister sold our parents house, which I was living in. So I had to find a new place to live. My childhood friend let me move in with him, but I found out yesterday, that not only is he obsessed with me in a yucky kind of way, he’s also a white nationalist. Like he’s in a cult and everything and I can’t stay there anymore. I don’t even want to go back to get the rest of my shit.”

The three boys looked at her and then at the two bags at her feet.

“That’s all you have now?” The sandy haired one asked.

“Yes. Well, no. My friend Mary, her parents let me put some family memory type stuff in their garage. I’m glad I hadn’t gotten the chance to bring that to the city yet.”

“Alright fine. We’ll interview you. But don’t think you’ll be getting any sympathy points from me.”

“Sirius,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“What?” He looked at Lily and raised a brow. “Are you a tidy roommate?”

“Yes.” Lily nodded, glad that she’d managed to get her foot in the door. “I always pick up after myself.”

“Do you cook?”

“Not for you I won’t.” He cracked a smile.

“Do you have a job?”

“I do. It’s a shitty job, but I’m working on it. I have another semester left of school. If I had a better job now though, I wouldn’t be begging you for your extra room.”

“So a job and school? How often would you actually be here?”

Lily paused for a moment. “I’m a bit of a homebody to be honest. But I do work thirty hours a week and I’m in class for another sixteen hours. Would you like me to promise to stay away from you? I can do that.”

“No, I think I’m starting to like you.” Sirius grinned.

“You’d need to move in tonight then?” James asked.

“I would,” Lily nodded. “Like I said, I can’t go back there.”

“We can go for you.” Sirius shrugged. “I wouldn’t mind rattling the pants off of a piece of shit.”

Lily bit her lip and looked down at the ground. She had no doubt that these three men would succeed in intimidating Severus, but she didn’t want them to go there either. “My stuff isn’t even packed up. I appreciate the offer, but what you just suggested sounded a bit like sympathy.”

Sirius shook his head and the other two laughed.

“No. Offering to kick the snot out of a racist bastard is simply a hobby of mine. I’m still not sure if I’m going to let you have the room.”

“It’s my house. I’m going to let her have it.” James said. “Remus, are you alright with that?”

“Excuse me,” Sirius widened his eyes and shook his head. “I’m in the middle of-”

“Yeah. I don’t have a problem with it. Welcome to the club, Lily,” He reached out and offered her his hand. She took it and sighed in relief.

“Okay, thank you, but now I have some questions for you three.”

“Oh do you,”

“Yes.” Lily nodded, looking at each of them in the eye. “Are any of you going to murder me?”

“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you.” Sirius grinned.

“Yes, I know. But my sister said that I had to ask.”

“I’ve never murdered someone before, so the odds are low.” Remus shrugged.

“I’ll just say ‘no,’ because I’m not, you know, insane like these two.” James shoved Remus’ shoulder.

“Alright.” Lily took a deep breath and tried to exhale the weight of the world that she’d been carrying around today. If this had fallen through, she would have had to get on a train and beg Petunia for a few nights on her couch, or just called London a bust and gone to live with Mary in Ireland.

But she wouldn’t have to do that now.

She was somewhere safe. Probably. They all seemed fairly harmless anyway.

“I can show you where the room is,” James offered.

“Am I just supposed to pretend like you two didn’t just get us a new roommate without asking for my vote?”

Lily had the feeling that Sirius was simply giving them all a hard time, but she folded her arms over her chest and huffed. “Look, Sirius, if you don’t want me here, I’ll leave. I can figure something else out.” She reached for her bag and stood up, pulling the strap over her shoulder. “I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes or-” “Lily,” Sirius looked a bit stricken. “No, I’m an asshole, you’ll get used to it. You can stay.”

She smiled at him. “I know, and now you have to stop complaining about it.” She winked at him and then turned to James, hoisting up her second bag. “Lead the way.”

Sirius started laughing and James looked plenty amused as well.

“You’re going to be trouble, aren’t you?” James asked as they walked toward the stairs.

“No more so than he is.”

James laughed. “Hopefully less trouble than he is. He is a lot of trouble.”

“Yeah, I kind of guessed that.”

“I thought I was going to have to yell at him when you grabbed your bag and pretended you were leaving.”

“All jokes aside, I really do appreciate you all letting me stay here. What did your fourth roommate do to get kicked out?”

“It wasn’t just one thing.” James shrugged. “But a couple of days ago, he uh-” He ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Well, it wasn’t actually me that he hurt, so I’ll have to let Sirius and Remus tell you. And they will, because they both want to take every opportunity to bitch him out that they can.” Lily smiled at him and he smiled back before reaching out and pulling a door open. “And here is your new room.”

It was entirely empty aside from a stripped bed. No furniture, no hangers in the closet, no lamps or rugs or posters. This room looked as though it's been abandoned for a while, not just since the other day.

“I know you just met us and so you’re not comfortable with us helping you out, but when you’re ready, we would like to help you get your stuff back.”

Lily let one of her bags drop to the ground, the one that didn’t have her laptop in it, and sighed. “Thanks, but I’m not sure that it’s worth it.” Her phone buzzed in her pocket and she knew that it was either Mary, asking if she was alright, or Severus, asking her where she’d gone and when she’d be back. “I didn’t even tell him that I was moving out. I’d rather him not know anything about where I went or who I’m with now.”

“Was he your b-”

“No.” Lily shook her head. “No, we reconnected at school after my mum passed. But then I found out that he transferred to my school when he found out that I was there. He printed off photos from my social media- I don’t know. I just didn’t feel safe there anymore and Mary told me that if I get murdered because I didn’t trust my instincts then she’s not going to come to my funeral.” James let out a soft laugh.

“Is Mary your sister?”

“Yes, but not by blood. Petunia is my actual sister, but we don’t get on well- Why am I telling you all of this? Mary is my best friend and she is also a bint and lives in Ireland.”

“People tell me things all the time. It must be my charming smile. I put people at ease. It’s how I got stuck with both Sirius and Remus.”

“You didn’t get stuck with us, you prat.” Sirius came up the stairs and leaned against the wall in the hallway. “I’m the one that’s stuck with you.”

“My parents adopted him when we were twelve.” James said. “I found Remus at school when I was nine. We’ve been inseparable ever since.”

Lily nodded.

“Do you need help unpacking, Red?”

Lily looked at Sirius, her bags and then the lack of stuff in the room. She laughed and he smiled at her.

“I’ll go and fetch you some clean linens from the closet.” James offered.

“And you two made fun of me for putting extra sheets in there!’ Remus shouted from down the stairs. “What do you all want for dinner?”

“Pizza,” Sirius shouted back.

“We had pizza yesterday, Sirius.” James reminded him. “Make your lobster mac n’ cheese, Remus!”

Lily picked up her bag again and moved into the room, setting them down on the bed and then unzipping them.

“Red?” She looked over at Sirius. “You good with lobster mac?”

She smiled. “Yeah.”

“Good.” He turned and walked off.

James came back with sheets, pillows and a comforter. He helped her get the fitted sheet on the bed before he bowed out and gave her some time to herself as well.

Things had been shit for a while now.

But she had the feeling that she’d just lucked into something quite spectacular.

#jily #jilytober #jily fic #fel writes jily #marauders #they were ROOOMMATES #though it's the very start of that trope

283 notes · View notes